Meet Covie

I talk to him every monday night when I clean at Stillwater. He's in a pretty similar boat... divorced recently, looking to have a little fun. Problem is, he doesn't have to look for fun, it finds him (in the form of multiple phone numbers per weekend) without his even trying. By the photo I think you can understand why, he's totally what women around here go for, the fit rugged blue-collar type. I have to compete with herds of guys like that. Case in point: two weeks ago he tells me that he's at B-dub's the previous friday night. An entire table full of women approach him and ask him if he's single. They say that a friend of theirs is going through a divorce and is having a difficult time meeting decent men who've gone through the same thing, and that she's pretty much given up hope of finding a nice guy who'll understand her and want to talk about it.

I kicked a trash can over when he told me that. But that was weeks ago.

So naturally I head over to B-dub's tonight after work. God damn this insidious infection of hope. I wish I had a penicillin that could kill it. Anyway, I'm still in my lingering fantastic mood, and the place is teeming with young'uns my age-ish. All the women there are "hot chicks", which honestly isn't the type I envision picking an post-work-smelly long haired fat guy to chat with. Especially among the throngs of Covies already desperately vying for their attention. I sip my beer and enjoy a fantastic basket of chicken tenders and bbq sauce while alternating my attention between the movie on the projection screen and the NTN trivia questions, and do my little foot-tappy-butt-wiggly chair dance to the excellent juke box selections (I can't sit still to music).

At the risk of sounding "sour grapes" I realize that I finally was having a wonderful time all by me onesy, and it didn't really matter whether I talked to anybody or not. Oh, every last woman there was total eye candy, and I'd've gladly engaged in conversation had the opportunity presented itself, but as I looked around and tried to make eye contact, I just didn't feel the longing that I usually do. I was totally content on my own. I finish, pay, and walk out with a smile, and without a backward glance.

Whether this is growing up or numbing down, I don't know, but it felt positive either way. :-)

---

Barbara and Nan, I replied to your comments on the last post.